did you mean to leave behind a song

sluggishly forgot to pack it along

seeping in my ears it’s pressure remains

it haunts me, it haunts me, it haunts me again.

and the worst part is-

is that you don’t even know that

it haunts me, it haunts me, it haunts me again.

to top it all off- again, and again, and again, and again.

it haunts me

melting past my ears your song

slips upon my lips until each kiss I give reminds me of you

gentlemen beware: my touch reeks of your melody that was abandoned

within my skin-there is you.

I am the haunted ghost forever I’ll roam to the end of the world 

in search of where your song began

the past is where it can be found

never to live again

it haunts me.

if the Empress is knocking-

the proper thing to do is answer.

she comes bearing gifts

in one hand she holds the center of your spine

the other- your femininity.

the king denied you such pleasures.

reclaim your stance as a Goddess

for every female knows that without women-

the world fails to spin round and round 

and round.

les tarot des femmes erotiques

“you are the bows from which your children are living arrows are sent forth. the archer see the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrow may go swift and far. let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;for even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.”

-gibran, kahlil, the prophet

women:

                                    grab your thrones

                                   with all your grace

                              i bid you- apply some pressure

                            and sing the majestic song of birth.

                             show ‘em, show ‘em what ya got

                        and don’t stop until the breathing halts.

prowl

he was on the prowl

entering rooms whose floors were dipped in flower jewels 

attempting to find me:

laying below the masses.

a warrior in the field of daffodils- not easily found.

incognito, i surrendered to the beauty.

come search for me if you wish….

my fingertips are yellow, my mouth radiates the scent of a freesia.

this is where i belong.

and when you do find me, when you do…

don’t dare pull me away

lay beside me and succumb 

to the sun you’ll learn to bask within.

shrine.

“we imprison what is alive because it is dangerous to those who are not.”

 ”the day that woman admits what we call her masculine qualities, and man admits his so-called feminine qualities, will mean that we admit we are androgynous, that we have many personalities, many sides to fulfill.”

“what we will have to reach, the ideal, is the recognition of woman’s sensual nature, the acceptance of its needs, the knowledge of the variety of temperaments, and the joyous attitude towards it as a part of nature, as natural as the growth of a flower, the tides, the movements of planets.”